The Paths I follow
by comealongrose
Summary: In an alternate universe where the demigods are just teenagers, Annabeth is only slightly heartbroken when her best friend Percy travels across the country to attend an art school in their senior year of high school. Left with Grover and new friend Piper, Annabeth learns to cope with her lost love, while Nico learns to be a bit less harsh on his sister, and to find love of his own.


Central Park has always been one of my favorite places in the world. When I was four, my mom took me through the bright blooming tapestry of colorful flowers, pointing out the different types of buildings in the New York City skyline. On the Winter Solstice when I was eight, she dragged my father away from his model airplanes, and we built an igloo next to a frozen-over fountain. The park was always my safe haven, a place where no one could ever hurt me.

It's August 30th, and the first rays of sunlight beat down on my back through the canopy of trees overhead. I crouch behind the fountain and refill my tank in the steadily dripping pool. Adrenaline thumps through my chest at uneven intervals as the dewey silence of the dawn stretches out around me in all directions.

Then, a scream pierces the air. Suddenly Grover, soaking wet, is running straight at me, bellowing to the winds. He fires a few halfhearted squirts into the air above his head, some sort of pathetic watery surrender, and collapses, wheezing, on the fountains edge.

"Grover!" I whisper. "Get out! You're giving away my hiding spot!"

"Oh, please," he mutters sarcastically. "Rachel and Percy already know you're hiding here. My presence doesn't make a difference."

"I will squirt you."

"Annabeth," he replies in haste, shooing my fast-approaching water gun away, "I'm serious. We all knew you were hiding here. You always hide here."

I sigh, reluctantly putting my squirt gun to rest on the ground. "So why hasn't anyone bombarded me yet?"

"Oh, they're too busy facing off near that creepy bronze statue. Whoever wins will come annihilate you shortly, I'm sure."

I ignore Grover, and reflexively grab my gun, hearing footsteps pounding against the uneven pavement. Soon, a telltale flame of curly red hair comes into my vision, and none other than a dripping Rachel Elizabeth Dare lands next to Grover in a heap. "Percy'll be coming soon", she mutters, resting her head precariously on Grover's shoulder.

"I'd watch out if I were you, Annabeth," Grover cautions. "Percy's bound to be competitive, what with his-"

"Winning streak, I know," I reply, steadying my squirt gun and preparing for battle. "Not for long, Seaweed Brain. Not for long."

Our water fights have become a tradition, in a way; every year, as summer slowly edges it's way into fall, the four of us hold a battle... to the death.

The whole thing began by accident- we were all sitting near the fountain, after Grover insisted on a run to Chipotle, when Percy accidentally dropped his burrito into the reflective water, splashing Rachel across her perfectly freckled nose. A full out war quickly ensued, and the rest was history.

It scares me, though. This may just be the last time we fight with deadly squirt guns in the first hours of the day; its senior year, and tomorrow, Percy and Rachel are flying to Seattle to attend some fancy arts school. It's been painful, listening to Rachel talk for hours about the opportunities out in the world for "Percy and I". Every time Percy talks about his future sculpting career, he gets adorably flustered, and his face turns a shade of deep tomato red. Meanwhile, Rachel is busy fretting about how to get all of her brushes and canvases across the country. Soon it will be just Grover and me, while Percy (and, fine, Rachel) are gone. Who knows where we'll be the next time the first green leaves start to change their hues?

I'm so lost in thought that it takes me a moment to recognize Percy's careless rustling through the bushes on my left. Grover and Rachel watch me with wide eyes as I slowly lift myself into a crouch on top of the fountain's edge. Percy leaps out from concealment in a split second, and shoots aimlessly, a gurgling war cry escaping his throat. His shots miss me by miles, and I fire a squirt into the area above his head. The two of us are just shooting randomly, now, laughing deliriously as we take random shots at the air.

"Hey!" Grover bleats, his hand on the back of his neck. "You shot me!"

Rachel giggles. "It's raining, it's pouring, the old Grover's snoring!"

Once, when I was nine, my mom took me to a couple's dancing class. We used to foxtrot aimlessly around the kitchen in slipper socks, my father watching from the stairs. Eventually, I taught Percy to be my partner. He's got two left feet, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm.

Some lopsided part of my brain decides to prance along the edge of the fountain now, with an invisible dance partner. Percy grins, and twists his feet along the sidewalk, then leaps up to me, hoping to beat me in hand-to-hand combat. It's too late however- I sidestep my jig at the last moment, and Percy lands with a splash in the shallow water.

Grover laughs wholeheartedly, and Rachel gives a sudden spurt of enthusiastic applause. I curtsy from my spot on the top of the world, a grin spreading across my face.

Percy's head pops out of the bubbling water, and a spurt of water escapes his lips. "What was that for?" he gasps.

"Winning streak; over," I say, raising one eyebrow.

Percy rolls his eyes in response. "Fine. Can you at least help me out?"

Grinning, I give him my hand, and- splash! I catapult into the water beside him.

"That was not fair!" I yelp, shoving him playfully.

"All's fair in love and war," he replies, his dancing sea-blue eyes locking with mine. Blood rushes to my cheeks, and Grover coughs awkwardly, coming to a haphazard stance on the edge of the fountain.

"Alright, now," he says lightly, running his hand through untamed curls of hair. "Let's get you two out of the water, now."

"Not so fast!" Rachel pounces on the oppurtunity like a cat, pushing Grover into the pool of water. Then, with a spurt of laughter, she joins us in the fountain, and we splash about for a bit. I can't believe that we are edging towards the end of this. These are my best friends.

There was a time when Percy and I could be simple friends, playing tag and pretending to hate one another. When I could look at Percy without feeling a primal burning in my gut, without my heart skipping a beat. That time was long ago, however- the stretches of awkward silences grow heavier each day, our sibling-like relationship wearing thin. I had once hoped that this would snap and give way to a different relationship, one where I was not thought of as a younger sister. I know now, that this is not the road our friendship is going to turn onto. I know now, that we'll remain trapped in this limbo of being too close to be "just friends" but too platonic to be anything else.

When I was twelve, my father raced into Central Park on a rainy Sunday morning to find me sitting on the edge of a nearly overflowing fountain. His black suit coat was drenched, but he put it around my shoulders anyway, then sat silently along next to me as the first strike of lightening hit the New York City skyline.

My mother died on my twelfth birthday. Heart attack. Since then, I've been pretty much alone in the city. My father is an engineering professor at a local college with an unhealthy obsession with building "precise models of World War II aircrafts".

I'm an only child. It's always been me against the world.

Me, and Percy.

But now I'm all alone.


End file.
